Johnlock: A New Addiction
by MrsHeftyTurtle
Summary: John and Sherlock have established their feelings for each other, now dealing with the consequences of the bad guys using it against them. Can Sherlock keep John alive without risking his own life?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello! I got the motivation to start writing again, oh my... This is in first person POV of Sherlock. Before Reichanbach Fall. In this sense of Johnlock, it is after John and Sherlock have established their feelings for each other. ;)**

 ** _Chapter 1_**

I was laying on the couch, thinking. Thinking about where my cigarettes were. John and I haven't had a case in days, well actually just hours, but it felt like days. I was getting bored. I couldn't remember where I put my cigarettes, John hid them from me. I sat up, looking around the room, studying it.

There? No, not the fire place.

How about there? No, too close to John's personal items.

The fridge? No, last time I hid them there, they were disgusting to smoke.

I pushed myself off the couch and wandered around the flat, picking up the chairs and moving them. Searching for my nicotine. John was gone, at work or something. Maybe. I couldn't remember where he went.

I rolled up the rug, nothing. I stood up, back straight, getting frustrated.

"Think. Think. Think." I said to myself. "Think!"

I thought of every single hiding place I could think of. Pointer and middle finger on my temples, focusing. I inhaled sharply. Yes, I remember. Under the couch. I crawled down onto the floor, pushing the coffee table out of my way. I reached my arm under the couch and searched. I felt the pack and ripped it from under the couch. I stood up abruptly, shaking and smacking the pack off my opposite palm. Ripping off the plastic seal, I took a deep inhale of the pack, smelling the toxins.

Where was John? I glanced around. Still gone? Strange. He won't notice.

I pulled a cigarette out of the pack and smelled it. Yes, the wonderful smell of a cigarette, I missed it. I ached for it. Managing to find a lighter somewhere in the kitchen, I lit the cigarette and took a large puff from it. Holding the smoke in my lungs for a few seconds and then exhaling. It felt so good.

It wasn't enough, I needed more. I sat in my chair and finished the cigarette in record time, almost. I lit another. Then another after that. I needed more.

I was sitting in my chair, enjoying the tenth to last cigarette in the pack, when John burst through the door.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He yelled. John walked over to me and ripped the cigarette out of my hand. "Sherlock, smoking? Really? How did you find these? I got rid of all your secret stashes!"

"Not all of them." I said, snarky.

"I see that now. How many have you smoked?"

"Oh, I don't know. I think five?" All these useless questions were annoying me. What does it matter how many I smoked? I needed the nicotine.

"Five?" John scoffed. He stood there in amazement. Was he disappointed?

"Yes, possibly more. I can't remember."

"You? Sherlock Holmes? Can't remember something like that?"

I glared at him. Yes of course I remembered, but I didn't want him to be upset with me. John grabbed the pack and put it into his pocket.

"No more."

I rolled my eyes at him and put the last cigarette out. _Stop it_ , I told myself. _Be nice to him. Be. Nice_.

"I'm sorry, John." I said as sincerely as possible.

"What did you say?" He looked back at me from the kitchen.

"I'm sorry."

"Right, okay. All right, well, just stop it, Sherlock. Just stop. You were doing so well."

"Yes, I will."

"Promise?" He asked, looking at me with his caring eyes. He put so much meaning behind such a simple word.

"Are we done here?" I said as I walked down to my bedroom and slammed the door behind me.

It was dark when I decided to leave my bedroom, the flat smelled as usual. Nothing moved. John fell asleep in his chair while typing up a blog from our recently solved case. I sat down across from him, reaching for his laptop before I sat down. I typed in the password with ease, he changed it monthly, but I always knew what it was. The paged loaded to his uncompleted blog. I scoffed at the title, he always thought of the worst titles names. Never accepting any of my suggestions. I saved the draft and browsed further at the other ones, the completed ones. John always made things more dramatic, to keep the readers I assume. I continued browsing.

After I would finish reading one case, I stared at John. Studying how he slept. It can't be comfortable in that chair, not at all. I could move him to the couch, but it might wake him. I should try anyway. I put the laptop down on the side table and got up, reaching for John's arm. As soon as I touched him, he woke up, startled.

"What are you doing?" John asked, still startled.

"I was moving you to the couch, you looked uncomfortable. I wanted to help." I responded carefully.

"I'm fine. I'll be in my room." He stood up, rubbing his eyes, and looking around. "Where is my laptop?" I handed it to him. "Sherlock, what did I tell you about looking through my laptop?" Disappointment in his voice.

"I was just reading."

"Yeah good well stop reading my laptop." John walked up to his bedroom. He was frustrated, I could tell by the way he stomped his feet and slammed the door.

I sighed and sat back down in my chair.

I was waiting for John to wake up, I made coffee for him as an apology for last night. I don't like upsetting him. I grabbed my violin and started composing a song I had been working on. I could hear the faint sound of John walking down the steps and into the kitchen.

"I made coffee." I said as soon as I felt John staring at me.

"Coffee?"

"Yes, coffee, for you." I pointed towards the cup with my bow. I put my violin away and poured him a cup. "Coffee." I smiled.

"Thank you." John returned the smile. I stared at him and he stared right back. John cleared his throat. "About last night, sorry, I didn't think I would fall asleep in the chair."

"No, it's fine. I just wanted you to be comfortable."

John walked to his chair and sat down, he grabbed the paper and started reading. I watched him carefully, he read every single word. Browsing through everything that could have the possibility of a case.

"Anything?" I asked, still staring at him.

"Nope, not today." He sighed and put the paper down. He rubbed his eyes and looked at me. "Has Lestrade called?" I shook my head, no. "Well someone might have sent you something. Have you checked your website?"

"No, everything is boring. Same things over and over; affairs, disappearances, nothing of interest."

John walked into the kitchen and open the fridge, I watched his every move. Once he opened the fridge he looked frustrated, he started tapping his foot.

"Sherlock, what the hell is this?" He said loudly.

"What?"

"I told you, Sherlock." Stern. "I bloody told you to knock off these damn experiments with my things!" John yelled. My body tensed, I didn't want to go near him. "Come here and clean this up." I didn't move. "Sherlock!" I ignored my body forcing me to stay still and walked towards him, I kept my distance. "What is this?" He asked, not looking at me.

"An experiment."

"What kind of experiment?" He growled, getting angrier.

"An important one, it could be important to us later."

"Important? So you have to use one of my favorite mugs?" John scoffed. "Clean it up."

"I'm sorry." I said, apologizing, looking down.

"Right, okay." He said as he slammed the fridge door. "I'm going out."

"John wait, please." I begged, looking at him. I hated disappointing him.

"No, I'll be back sometime." He walked down the stairs and left. I sighed and grabbed the mug from the fridge, starting to clean out the experiment.

John finally returned home after a few hours, looking refreshed. He didn't say anything to me once entering the flat. I left his mug on the kitchen table with a little note, apologizing again. He picked the mug up and sighed, he put it back down. He slowly walked over to me. I stood up and looked down on him, studying his face.

"I'm sorry about earlier. Just, stop it with the experiments on my things, Sherlock." He smiled up at me. I returned the smile.

He kissed me, I kissed back.

"It's not your fault." I said after we finished our kiss. "I should have known." I smiled slightly, not wanting to ruin this moment of ours.

"I got you something, while I was out. Your brother called, said he couldn't get ahold of you. Well, he didn't call me, he did the stalking thing again. Anyway, a case." John handed files to me, I didn't even realize he was holding them. "Looks promising." He smiled.

I looked through the files and flipped through them.

"Yes, promising indeed." I kissed him again. "Shall we?" I asked, heading towards the door.

He followed me, like always.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hey guys, I just wanted to inform you that I am a university student. During the week, I will write when available. Tuesdays are my busiest class days; I have a class from 9:30am to 10:20am, 12:30pm to 1:45pm, then a 6pm to 9pm. :( I will try my hardest, but I'm not promising anything! I will attempt to post a chapter once every other day, unless it is the weekend where I can post one or more then. Thank you for understanding and please enjoy!**

 ** _Chapter 2_**

We arrived outside the Diogenes Club and walked inside. Walking through the long corridors and rooms to reach Mycroft's office, which was tucked in the back of the building. I let John enter first and we were greeted by Mycroft, whom was sitting in his chair at his desk.

"Ah, yes, hello Sherlock. John." He nodded at us. "Glad you came." He smiled, that snarky smile of his.

"This better not be dull, Mycroft." I said as I sat in a chair across from him. The files really did look promising, but Mycroft always had a plot twist. Working with Mycroft was a pain in the ass anyway. I looked at John, who sat down beside me and gave me a confused look, probably wondering why I said what I said.

"Did you read the file?" He looked at me, smirking. He knew I already did.

"Of course."

"Your thoughts?"

"Simple. How could you not see it?" I asked, leaning back in the chair.

"Simple? Sherlock, did you really read it?"

"Yes."

"Then you understand that this has to do with Moriarty, correct? He's coming, you know. Avoiding him won't make it any better." Mycroft said in a caring tone. _God, get over your dramatic self._

"Moriarty is none of my concern." I rolled my eyes.

"None of your concern?" John said, looking at me with wide eyes. "The man tried to blow me up!"

"Yes and that is over now, is it not?" I looked at John. _Stop being so rude to him._

"No. He's hacked into our systems and is stealing valuable information to use against you." Mycroft said.

"Anyone can do that these days."

"If you don't take this case, Sherlock, you're going to regret it. Take the files home, read over them. Decide." Mycroft said, leaning forward, and pushing the files towards me. I picked them up.

"Okay, brother." I stood. "I will look over your precious files. Do you ever do anything?"

"I don't like getting my hands dirty, you know that." Mycroft smiled at us while we exited.

"What the hell was that about, Sherlock? You said the files looked promising." John said once we exited the building.

"Oh they are; they are very promising." I smiled big at John.

"Then why did you just act like a dick to your brother?"

"You know." I shrugged.

"Right, sibling feud. God, you of all people would never be so childish." John sounded disappointed. _Good going, smartass._

"Hungry? I should probably look over the files. I really didn't." I smiled at him and he nodded.

We were sitting at Angelo's, John was eating and I was focusing. The files were a jumbled mess, even for Mycroft. It was bits and pieces of information that didn't make sense when together. It looked as if Moriarty was trying to create some sort of expert plan, with many loopholes. I deciphered that any information regarding the letters "J", "S", and "M" were referring to John, Mycroft, and myself. None of it came to a clear conclusion though, there was no final step. There was a lot of information that Mycroft didn't have and that I would need to solve this case. I groaned out of frustration and closed the files.

"Useless. Absolutely useless. How does he think I can solve something when he doesn't give me all the answers?" I started tapping my fingers on the table, trying to think.

"What does it say in there?"

"Something about an expert plan to take us all down using security files, but why? There is no reason why and there is no conclusion. Taking us down, yes, but it doesn't say how. There is always a how with Moriarty, always. Something unique. That's who he is. Mycroft is missing too much information." I said, speaking quickly with a frustrated tone. "What the hell could it be?"

"Maybe a clue? A hint?" John said, hope in his voice. I looked at him and smiled.

"Yes, John. Yes! A hint. But what? What hint? What is he trying to tell us?" I asked, mostly to myself, but John always responded when I spoke.

"Maybe he's trying to tell us that he's coming soon."

The obvious, always the obvious with John. He never thinks with complexity. It was annoying and upsetting, sometimes he had very good points, but I was always disappointed when he gave me these obvious responses.

"Yes, John, but how?"

"Well, I don't know."

"That's what we're going to find out." I got up abruptly and John followed behind. John took my hand, it startled me. He went to let go, but I held his hand a little tighter. We decided to walk back to the flat. We didn't speak, we just walked. I focused on every possibility of Moriarty giving me a hint, any hint.

The next morning couldn't come any sooner, I woke up to John cooking in the kitchen and Mrs. Hudson downstairs yelling obscenities in the bakery. I walked out to the kitchen and gave John a kiss before sitting in my chair, picking up the files once again.

"Something came for you." John said, pointing to an envelope on the table.

I picked it up and looked over it, it looked ordinary. No return address, just my name and address. I opened it slowly and revealed a small card with fine black print on it.

If you weren't so foolishly blind,

If you swam deep into those recurring nightmares,

You'd find

My well hidden lair,

Where all my victims end up ensnared

 **AN: (To the poem in this chapter, I am giving credit to Chrotus Atrens. I took the bottom half of his poem "Dark Angel", you can find it on )**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_**

I stared at the note for some time, reading the poem over and over. Trying to decipher what it was talking about. I think John was trying to get my attention, I can't remember. I wasn't focusing on him. Just focusing on this poem, was this the hint? The hint that Moriarty was trying to tell me?

"Sherlock!" John yelled at me. "What does the letter say?" He finally got my attention. Being taken out of my thought process so quickly I stumbled over my words then cleared my throat. I read the poem to him.

"Ensnared? What does that mean?" John asked as he sat down and took a sip of tea.

"Trapped, John. It means trapped." I said, annoyed.

"Is it a hint? From Moriarty?"

"Yes, most likely. What victims? Where is this hidden lair?" I wasn't asking John any questions, just talking to myself. "Phone Lestrade, he needs to know about this."

As if on cue, my phone rang. It was Lestrade.

"Yes?" I said as I answered it.

"We've got you a case, Sherlock. A kidnapping. Can you come down to Scotland Yard?"

"Absolutely, be there in a bit." I hung up and smiled menacingly. I stood up in cheer. "A case, John! It's a hint! Ooooh but where could they be?" I started walking around the flat, thinking. "Where would Moriarty want me to look for a person?"

"Sherlock, what did Lestrade want?" John asked, still confused.

"Someone has been kidnapped, John! The note, it's a hint. Moriarty is trying to tell me where they are. Come, we need to go." I grabbed my coat and scarf and headed down the stairs.

"Sherlock! God dammit." I heard John mumble as he followed behind. I was moving too quickly for him. "Sherlock slow down, tell me what the hell is going on?"

"The note, John. Read it." I handed it to him. "We got this just moments before Lestrade phoned me, so Moriarty wanted me to know about this. This is a hint, John, to where ever these people are. Oh I love this."

"Not very good timing, Sherlock. Someone is missing. Stop smiling." John said, worried by my enthusiasm. I kissed him deeply.

"Oh but you know how much I love these cases." I smiled at him and we got into a cab, heading on our way to Scotland Yard.

Lestrade was waiting for us in his office, going through photographs that were laying on his desk.

"We received these while you were on your way here, you might want to look at them, they're interesting." I took them from him.

"Interesting indeed." I said as I glanced through the photos. They were dark, but you could make out the faces of people. Terrified people. At least three or four of them, in a room. Brick walls, they were chained to the wall. I looked everywhere in the photo trying to look for some sort of hint. "Is this all you received?" I looked at Lestrade, he nodded. I went back to the photos and kept looking at them. Looking for a sign.

"What is that, in the corner right there?" John said, pointing to one of the photos.

"Nothing, that's just a camera smudge." I said, ignoring his input.

"No, Sherlock, it looks like someone was trying to write your name out."

I looked at the photo again and there it was, it did look like a smudge, if you weren't looking at it from a different angle. I lifted the photo up to the light and there it was. See-through writing on the photos. On each one there was a different word, all together it spelled out:

"Come and play the game, Sherlock Holmes"

I read it aloud, then grabbed a marker and started writing the words on the back of the photos with a black marker. I placed them in order, photo up, unable to see the words. I realized after placing them in order that it wasn't numerous people, it was just one. One person.

"You're a genius, John!" I said and kissed his forehead.

"Get a room, you two." Lestrade said as he winked at me.

"I am?" John asked.

"Well, sometimes." _Asshole._ "Yes, you are. You can be. It's time to play the game, John. Lestrade, if you get any more information, send it to the flat as soon as possible and don't send one of your men with it. Just you. John, let's go. We have a game to play." I looked at him and smiled.

"Stop with the face, Sherlock. I don't know what's going on." John stood there and crossed him arms, refusing to move.

"Can't you see? No? I'll explain in the cab. Let's go." I grabbed his hand and we walked out, calling for a cab.

In the middle of explaining the situation to John, the cab crashed. Before I went unconscious, I calculated that the cab flipped about four times. I don't remember the rest.

"Sir? Sir can you hear me?" A strange voice called. I opened my eyes and tried to focus on them, it was a woman. "Sir, you've been in an accident, do you know where you are?" I tried sitting up, looking around, looking for John. "No, sir, you need to lay down, you broke your shoulder blade and possibly a rib, you need to relax." As soon as she said that, I felt the pain shooting through my arm and to my shoulder. I felt the pain in my chest with every breath I took. I groaned in pain and passed out again.

I woke up in an ambulance, they had morphine pumping into my body.

"John?" I groaned. "Where... Where is John?"

"Sir, who are you talking about?" A male voice responded.

"The other person in the car, where is he?"

"Besides the cabbie, there was no one else in the car with you. Is John your friend? Do you want me to phone him? Do you know his number?"

"What? No, he was in the cab with me." I saw the male look at the female in confusion. "He was there!" I yelled.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to calm down. No one else was in the back of the cab."

I woke up in a hospital room, still having morphine pumped into me. Mycroft was sitting in a chair across from me. I focused on him and cleared my vision.

"They found this in your pocket when they pulled you out of the cab." He said, walking over to me and showing me a pocket watch, on the back it said:

"Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock. You've got to stop the clock."


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_**

I took the pocket watch from Mycroft and studied it. Just an ordinary watch, nothing unique, except for the engraving on the back. I opened the watch to reveal the clock inside, nothing there. I moved it around in my palm, feeling for something.

"You know what this means, don't you, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, breaking the silence.

"Of course I know what this means. Moriarty has John and I need to find him." I responded, annoyed with his stupid question. It was taking every ounce of me to not start panicking.

"You can't do anything with these broken bones, you know."

"Watch me." I tried to push myself out of bed, inhaling sharply to ignore the pain. I fell back, I couldn't get up. _Try harder._ I kept trying, over and over, to push myself out of the bed. I was unable to.

"You need to heal first, Sherlock." Mycroft said, shaking his head. "I believe John will be all right. Moriarty wouldn't do anything to him until you started searching. You should know that."

"I will be fine, Mycroft." Ignoring him and continuing to try and get out of the bed. I managed to sit up, ignoring the pain shooting through my body, and place my feet on the ground. Mycroft got up to stop me, but I pushed him back. "Let me do this."

"Sherlock Holmes, you have two broken ribs and a broken shoulder blade. You need to rest." Mycroft said as stern as he could.

"Let me be, Mycroft. I can handle myself."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Rest, Sherlock. At least for tonight. Please."

"I need to find John."

A nurse walked in carrying an envelope. "Mr. Holmes? This is for you."

Both Mycroft and I looked at her, but she was looking at me. She handed the envelope to me and walked out. Fidgety, she was nervous. Mycroft took the envelope from me and open it, revealing a flash drive.

"Give it to me." I asked, aggressively.

"What will you do with it? You have no laptop, no way to look at what is on it." Mycroft smirked.

"I have yours." I said, nodding over to where Mycroft had his laptop laying.

"Fine." Mycroft scoffed and handed his laptop and the flash drive to me. I pulled the mobile stand over to me and place the laptop on it. "It's password protected." Mycroft said. "Good luck unlocking it." I glared at him, _stop testing me._

I opened the laptop and booted it up, he was right, password protected. I entered the correct password the first time, it only took me thirty seconds to figure out what it was. I glanced at Mycroft, seeing his offended look before he rolled his eyes. I put the flash drive into the USB slot and opened the file. A video and a poem were in the file.

I see dark

I see rage

I see pain

I see depression

I see fear

That all lies

Within the dark

The demons

Within me

You tempt me

You push me

You dig into me

Trying to expose my demons

There have been times you have done it

Just to meet them

Just to torment me

I loaded the video after reading the poem, all I could see was Moriarty's face.

"Oh hello again Sherlock Holmes. Have you been getting my poems? Oh I dearly hope so." He smiled that eerie smile. "I'm sorry we can't do this face to face, but you seem to have become a little… Ruffed up." He winked. "I have something of yours, you know. I hope you know by now, it is something oh so very dear to you. He's doing well, cooperating perfectly." I could hear John yelling my name in the background, then it became muffled. Moriarty laughed sadistically. "Oh boy, did you hear that? He misses you, Sherlock. Come and play." In the background of the video, I could hear a clock ticking over and over. "Come and play the game, Sherlock." Moriarty repeated those lines six times before the video went dark.

 _Calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down…_

My hands started shaking, I don't know if it was from fear or rage. I couldn't control them.

 _He's going to be okay, he's going to be okay, he's going to be okay…_

I opened the poem up again and re-read it. Trying to decipher anything from it. I must get back to the flat, look over all these hints.

"I need to get back to the flat." I said, looking at Mycroft. I could see the concern in his face, he knew I wasn't okay.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded.

Back at the flat, it was difficult for me to move. Mycroft stayed around, helping me. Grabbing things for me. Caring. We didn't speak, I just laid everything in front of me and stared at it. Thinking about everything. The room Moriarty was in was damp looking and dark. Possibly an old factory? I wrote down all my assumptions, keeping track. I wrote down all the possible places that he could be. I wrote down everything. Mrs. Hudson came up sometime with tea, handing Mycroft and I a cup. I shrugged it off, eating or drinking will slow me down. I focused solely on the hints. Then it hit me, I knew that basement. I knew exactly where it was.

"St. Bart's hospital!" I yelled, standing up. Immediately regretting the quick decision to stand up so quickly, the pain shot through my body. I sat back down and groaned.

"I'm sorry?" Mycroft said.

"The basement, they're in St. Bart's hospital basement." I laughed. "I know that basement, I've completed numerous experiments down there."

"You can't go alone."

"You won't go with me, though."

"No. I can send someone with you."

"I need to go alone; I need to do this." I said, getting up slowly. Trying to ignore the pain again.

 _I'm coming for you, love._

 **AN: Credit for the poem used goes to ttj16 on , the poem is called "My Tormentor". :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I believe I have hit writer's block… If anyone wants to recommend something, that would be superb. Thank you. xx Also apologies for any errors, I'm too sleepy to read over this and correct it. xx**

 ** _Chapter 5_**

I arrived at St. Bart's hospital and headed down the stairway to the basement. Breathing through the pain, ignoring all of it. _Should have brought the morphine…_ The only thing my body was running on was adrenaline. The possibility of finding John so quickly gave me a high, a high that I needed. I pushed through a door that led into what the workers call a 'dungeon'. It was damp, water dripping from the ceiling, mold growing on the walls, and subtle light coming in from the small windows at the far back of the big room. It smelled wet, stale, and it looked just like it did in the photos. Except, no one was here. I couldn't hear anything or anyone. I walked around the large room, there were puddles of water almost everywhere. Except, one puddle was darker than the others.

It was blood.

My heart started racing. Was it John's? He didn't sound in pain when he yelled my name in the video. Maybe they hurt him after that? Why would they? To make me search faster? Hundreds of dreadful thoughts started running through my mind. I kept trying to focus on the goal; to find John safe. My hands started shaking again.

"Stop it!" I yelled at myself and took a deep breath, calming down.

I continued looking around and found a small wooden box, it was plain. Nothing on it. I picked it up, it was small and fit in the palm of my hand. Opening it, there was a note inside.

Do you like this little game of ours, Sherlock? Good job finding out where we were, you're just a little too slow. Your Johnnie boy is okay, did you like the blood? It was a nice touch. Don't you worry about him, I have a lot more for him in mind than mindless murder, that comes later. Come to our favorite place.

Jim Moriarty x

I flipped the note over a revealed a set of numbers, they looked random.

27 6 8 / 52 / 5 3 46 / 7 / 12 1 5 / 51 / 8 2 95 / 

6 / 26 5 7 / 50 / 4 2 45 / 5 / 11 0 4 / 49 / 

7 1 94 / 4 / 25 4 6 / 48 / 3 1 44 / 3 / 10 0 3 / 

47 / 6 0 93 / 2 / 24 3 5 / 46 / 2 0 43 / 1

It continued all the way down the page, until most of the numbers had counted down to zero. It was all in order. The first seven sets of numbers were the most vital, they had to be the key to cracking the code. They could be anything, coordinates, a pattern, addresses, anything. I made my way back outside in better lighting, the adrenaline no longer pumping through my veins, I could really feel the pain now. It stung. I needed morphine.

A black car pulled up to me and the driver got out, opening the back door for me. I got in and sat down beside Mycroft. He handed me a syringe, filled with what I presumed was morphine.

"Thank you." I said, through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the pain.

"What did you find in there?" Mycroft asked as I injected the morphine into my blood stream. I sighed with relief, it kicked in immediately.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." I responded, eyes closed, relaxing.

"You can't lie to me, Sherlock. What did you find?" Mycroft said that more assertively, probably trying to get me to behave. I pulled the note out of my pocket and handed it to him. I could tell he was looking over it, even with my eyes closed.

"Nonsense. Absolute nonsense." He said after some time. I opened my eyes and looked at him.

"Of course it's nonsense to you." I said, glaring at him.

"Excuse you?" Mycroft said, shocked I'd say such a thing. "Then you tell me about it." He tossed the note at me.

"The numbers are a pattern and Moriarty, when referring to our favorite place, is talking about the pool. The numbers are a date and time in which he wants me to meet with him, it is also how many people, also known as shooters, are going to be there. The pattern of smaller numbers is the number of people and the larger numbers are dates and times. I just have yet to figure out the order in which the date and time is to figure out exactly when I will be meeting with him." I said, quickly, seeing if Mycroft could keep up with me.

He just nodded.

"Then figure it out. You're Sherlock Holmes, do your job."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: If you are interested in seeing anything specific in this story, please let me know. I believe I have defeated my writer's block, but we all know that writer's block can hit us at any moment. :( Enjoy xx**

 ** _Chapter 6_**

I was back in the flat staring at the letters. I wrote down the numbers into groups, I already figured out that there would be 10 shooters. They will most likely be in different buildings with sniper rifles, like last time. I couldn't figure out the date and time though, the numbers over lapped too many times. It could be in two days, a week from now, or a month from now. The times range from midnight to mid-day, but I deduced that it would be at night. Why would Moriarty want to meet when people would be at the pool? Unless he was doing that to throw me off. Maybe I should just go each time and day I assume he would be there, never miss a time.

I decided that that was what I would do, go to the pool every day and time that was on the list of numbers, just to be safe. I wrote down the dates and times on a separate sheet of paper and pinned it to the wall, along with all the other notes I've been keeping track of since John has been gone. It looked jumbled, the photos pinned in order, every note, I even typed up every word Moriarty said in the video from the flash drive and pinned it to the wall. I just wanted to find my blogger.

It was midnight, I was standing near the edge of the pool. I glanced around the room, it wasn't tampered with, no one was here. I was all alone. Five minutes passed, no one showed up. I walked around the pool, looking for a hint, waiting for someone to come in.

Nothing.

It was a week later and I was standing at the pool again, at midnight. No one was here, no trace of any human life besides the floor still slightly wet from today's swimmers.

A month later and I showed up at the pool around noon. I looked odd out of all the other swimmers, because I was wearing my regular attire. Not really for the pool. I glanced around the room and looked at every single face until I saw him, I saw Moriarty standing at the back of the room, leaning against a doorway, staring at me. He noticed that I found him and smiled wide. I made my way towards him, trying to pace myself as my heart raced. Was John in here with me?

"You've made it, good. I thought I was going to throw you off with coming here during noon." Moriarty smiled at me once I was in earshot of him.

"Well I managed to figure it out." I said, confidently.

"You know I saw you. On the security footage. You came here every time and date I wrote in the note. I almost tricked you." He winked at me. "Do you like my little poems? They fit perfectly. I'm proud of myself for them." He turned on his heels and started walking away, I followed. "Your Johnnie boy is still okay." He handed a photo to me, it was of John. He did look okay, apart from the bags under his eyes, how much more pale his skin became, and he looked a bit thinner. They were keeping him inside, barely feeding him, and he probably wasn't sleeping due to high levels of constant stress. "He's doing fine; I see the worry on your face. He's still breathing. Now, we need to make a little deal here Sherlock."

I didn't realize that Moriarty walked me into a private room and locked the door until we were already in there, I was too focused on the picture of John. Moriarty took the photo out of my hands and put it back in his pocket.

"Deal?" I asked, confused.

"Yes, a deal, Sherlock. I want you gone, forever."

"You've always wanted that."

"Well this time it has to be permanent, you know. I can't play my games with you around. Solving things. Being boring. Let me have my fun." He walked closer to me, a little too close. "Unless you want me to hurt Dr. Watson." He smirked. My entire body tensed.

"Gone as in how?"

"Ohhh you know how." He took a step back and looked me up and down. "Make a big scene and die."

"I'm not going to die for you."

"Unless I make you. I will give you your little doctor back in the meantime. Give you something to spend time with before I kill you. Well, you kill you." He smiled and opened a door, John was pushed into the room. It took every nerve in my body not to run towards him and make sure he really was all right. "You can go to him, Dr. Watson."

John looked at Moriarty than to me, nervous. He walked towards me and smiled, he gave me a look, telling me he was okay.

"I'll leave you both to it. You have two months, Sherlock. Remember our deal." Moriarty winked as he walked out the door, closing it behind him.

"God, John, are you all right?" I asked, looking over his body.

"Yes, yes Sherlock I am fine. I am okay." John said, exhausted. I held his face in my hands. "I am okay, Sherlock."

I kissed him, held him close to me. I missed this feeling, longed for this feeling. John returned the kiss and held onto me, barely strong enough to stand.

"Let me get you home." I said panting, out of breath from the kiss.

"Yes, please. I'd like that." He looked up at me and smiled. "God it was awful, Sherlock."

"Don't talk about it now. Mycroft should have a vehicle waiting outside to take us back to the flat." I helped him walk outside.

Back at the flat, I helped John to the couch and laid him there. I gave him a blanket and helped him get comfortable. He started dosing off, but kept jolting awake. I just finished making him tea and took it over to him. I helped him sit up to drink it.

"God, it's delicious." John said through sips.

"What did they feed you?" I asked, _was it too soon to ask?_

"Barely anything. It looked like dog food, just scraps of meat and whatever else they managed to find. They only gave me one cup of water a day. Awful. Bloody awful. I sat in a very, very well lit room that made it too difficult to sleep. Sometimes they would walk in while I was asleep and start banging pots and pans around, sometimes they even shot off guns. They would let me sleep for maybe two hours at a time before waking me up. The flat was bugged, you know, with cameras? Did you ever find them? They would show me live feeds of you while you walked around the flat. It was awful, watching you go crazy like that. Moriarty would watch it with me sometimes and just laugh at you…" John sighed. "He told me about the deal he was going to make with you, your life for mine. I don't want you to do that, Sherlock. Don't let him control you like that. Fight against him."

"John I…" I said, he interrupted me.

"Sherlock, I'm serious. Don't let him defeat you."

"John, he's more powerful than I am."

"You're Sherlock Holmes, I've seen what you can do. Fight back." John said before kissing me and pulling me to him. "Do it for me." John pulled me on top of him and continued kissing me.

His last sentence repeated in my head, over and over.

 _Do it for me, do it for me, do it for me, do it for me…_


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thinking about this now, I had full intentions on making this about Sherlock's "new addiction" to John, but as we can see it has yet to get there. I'm trying! My thinking is jumbled and my writing is crazy. I am also SO sorry for the delay! Don't lose hope, I am still here! You can always put in a recommendation, I work really well with writing out other ideas. ;)**

 ** _Chapter 7_**

I woke up on the floor, with a blanket wrapped around me and a pillow under my head. I was lying beside the couch and I glanced up at it, John was still asleep on the couch. Half of his body was covered by the blanket, revealing his chest. I looked down at myself, I too was missing my shirt. I got myself up and found my shirt, putting it back on even though it was wrinkled. Slowly, without waking John, I made my way to the kitchen and started brewing some tea. While the tea was brewing, I went to the bathroom and refreshed myself up a bit. Replacing my shirt to look more put together, I grabbed my coat and scarf, then walked downstairs to the outside. It was cold this morning and the fog still had not cleared.

I walked a few blocks and to the nearest shop, getting food for John and I. On the way back, I glanced at my phone to see if John had texted me and for a second I swore I saw Moriarty's face on the screen. I stopped walking and stared at my phone; nothing there. I put my phone in my pocket and ignored it. I glanced in the windows of a few shops that were still closed, there he was again. He was standing there. I turned to look, but no one was there. The entire walk home I kept seeing glimpses or Moriarty somewhere, when he actually wasn't there.

I made it back into the flat and John was just waking up. I smiled.

"I got food and brewed some tea." I said, handing him his bag of food.

"Oh, thank you Sherlock." He sat up and adjusted himself, pulling the coffee table closer to him and eating his food. I sat down in my chair and pulled out my cell phone, before eating I wanted to send a text to Mycroft.

Keep seeing Moriarty, can you check cameras for me?

SH

I put my cell phone away and started eating.

"How did you sleep?" I couldn't remember anything that happened last night, but there were a few beer bottles sitting out. When did we own beer?

"Fine, I have a bit of a headache but I feel fine." John said between bites. "How about yourself? Sorry about having you sleep on the floor." He looked down at his food, upset.

"It's fine, John. I must have been quite tired last night. I slept well." I said, reassuring him that it was okay, honestly I couldn't remember getting on the floor in the first place. "Would you like to go for a walk later?" As soon as I asked, I was regretting it. If I was seeing Moriarty everywhere, I might go crazy while on a walk with John. Thankfully he shook his head no. My cell phone ringed, Mycroft responded.

No where to be found.

Mycroft

Of course.

Are you looking hard enough?

SH

An immediate response.

Yes.

Mycroft

I could sense him glaring and rolling his eyes at his phone when he read my text.

"Who was that?" John asked, finishing his tea.

"Mycroft."

"What did he want so early?"

"I texted him first, just asking a curious question." I smiled at him.

"So early?" He asked, he was trying to get me to tell him what I texted Mycroft about, but I wasn't going to budge. It would just make him worry.

"Yes, just curious." He stopped asking questions.

John got up and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I heard the shower turn on. My phone went off again.

Miss your face. 

Jim Moriarty xx


End file.
